Love Forbidden
by Lady of Middle Earth
Summary: Nárie has lived a life of lose, hurt, and regret. When her so-called parents die, she is on her own to explore the world, which is bigger than she thought. Though she refuses to admit she needs help, she struggles for friendship and falls into forbidde
1. What A Life

Okay, I've been thinking about writing this story for a long time but have been reluctant to actually start it because none of my other stories got any _positive _attention. But why not? What's the worst that could happen? I get shot down, again? Whatever. 

I don't own the obvious; Legolas, Middle Earth, etc. I do own the story idea and (the girl's name) so please respect that.

Summary: Nárie has lived a life of lose, hurt, and regret. When her so-called parents die, she is on her own to explore the world, but it is much bigger on her own. Though she refuses to admit she needs help, she struggles for friendship and falls into forbidden love. 

Just a little note. I know that a million people do stories about some girl falling in love with Legolas, but this one will be different, I promise. I was originally going to make up a character for the male part, but then I read 10 Rules to writing a Fanfiction or something like that, I don't remember the exact title. Anyway, one of the rules was to always involve a character from the story. I had never really considered that so I decided to go along with Legolas. After all, I did need some sort of nobility whose father was important so I said what the hell. If you don't like it, don't read it. It's as simple as that, but please respect anything you do read.

On that note, sorry about the negativity, I will begin my tale…

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***_Forbidden Love_***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

                                                              By Lady of Middle Earth

**                                                         Chapter One**

**                                                          What A Life**

A pale moon rose slowly into the sky, casting little light for nightwalkers.  A slender figure cast a silhouette along the gray horizon.  Hair flowing in the gentle breeze, the young woman broke into a jog as she headed back toward her small home in Gondor.  She lived far from the many villages, away from everyone.  She had never known why, but she guessed it had something to do with her parents.  Her real parents, that is.  When she was little she was found in a small boat, going down the Anduin and her new parents had rescued her, risking their lives for hers.  Or so her new parents had said.  But now that she had really figured out what kind of people they were, she doubted that was true.

  A shout drew her back from her thoughts, "Nárie!" the voice called with urgency.

  Stepping into the doorway, hardly winded from her jog and hurried to her mother's side, "What is it?" she asked, looking at her father who lay on the floor with a distant look in his eyes.

  "He came in with an arrow in his hand.  He must have pulled it from his shoulder, then he just collapsed," the elderly woman mumbled as she wiped her husband's brow with a cloth.  New beads of perspiration quickly began to form.

  Examining first the wound, the young woman saw that it hadn't gone deep, but would leave an ugly scar, if he survived.  Next she looked at the arrow.  It was covered in red blood, but at the tip, it had began to bubble white. "Get him onto the bed," Nárie said as she draped the heavy man's arm around her shoulder.  On the count of three, both women stood up and half carried, half dragged him to the nearest bed, which happened to belong to Nárie.

  Wrapping her only blanket tightly around him, she turned to her mother, "Go get several more blankets and bandages, I will boil some water."

            Hurrying to a small table she grabbed a smaller caldron and hurried back out the door to the nearby stream.  Collecting water, she carefully carried it back so not spill.  Setting the caldron over the fire, she dug through a small chest at the foot of the bed where she kept her few belongings.  Withdrawing a worn, brown sac, she opened it and carefully poured it's contents out onto the floor.  Sorting throughout the small containers she quickly selected a small jar labeled Baobab.  Inside there was one small strip of bark.  With a sigh of regret, she slipped the bark into the boiling water.  After it cooked for several moments, she took it from the fire, and set it again on the table in which it was placed before.  Leaving it to cool, she turned back to the pale form lying in her bed.  Her mother had just returned with blankets and bandage wrapping.  Wrapping another blanket around the man, she looked up with fear in her eyes.

  "The arrow was poisoned," Nárie said she quickly, but gently bandaged the wound, "The tea should help with both the poison and the fever, but it is up to him to fight the worst off."

            Going back to the table, she dipped a ladle into the pot and filled a cup with the liquid.  Returning the bedside, she eased some of the warm tea into the man's mouth.  Slowly, she eased more in until the cup was emptied.

            Standing, she glanced at her mother, who had taken her husband's hand into her own.  Just when the younger woman was about to walk away, thinking all was well for the moment, the once still form of the man began to cough.  It was a rough, bone-shaking cough and it did not slow.  His body began to shake and the bandage on his shoulder filled with blood.  With one final shake he fell back onto the bed and was still, his eyes closed.  

Stepping over to him, Nárie took his empty hand and felt around for a pulse.  There was none.  Looking into her mother's eyes, she shook her head.  A wail came from the elderly woman and she lay her head on her husband's chest, sobbing.

Stepping away again, Nárie left the cottage and out into the night.  She wondered, not far from the house, until she collapsed onto the ground.  Gazing up at the stars, a single tear rolled down her cheek.  Not because she had just lost her father, but in fear of what was yet to come.

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Dum…dum..dummmm. Well that's it for the first chapter. I will be starting the next one soon, but how soon I post it depends on how many reviews, if any, I get. So please tell me what you think. I really need some encouraging to keep this story going. 

Baobab is a tree that really does help with fevers. The bark also yields arrow poison antidote. It can be found in Africa and Australia.


	2. Mourning A Death

                                                         **Chapter Two**

**                                                    Morning A Death**

            The next morning Nárie woke up early in hopes to rise before her mother, knowing that she would be in an extra frightful mood after the previous night.  Glancing at her father's form still on her bed, she stood soundlessly.  She had been forced to sleep on the floor in the corner of the room because there were no extra beds; they never had any guests.  As she was about to open the door a booming voice stopped her,

  "Where do you think you are going?" her mother hollered.

  "Just out for a walk and some fresh air," Nárie lied, knowing that she could not fool her mother.

  "You lie," the woman, said as she hobbled toward the door, "You still have shores to do today.  Don't think that after last night I'm just going to let you waltz around her like it's a holiday."

  "I never get a holiday break," Nárie whispered to herself.

  "What was that?" her mother screamed, "I will have none of that.  You should be in tears, morning his death," she cried as she motioned toward the still man, "I know you had something to do with his death."

  "What?" Nárie cried, "But…how could I have…"

  "Don't start with me," her mother cut in, "It had something to do with that tea you gave him.  You knew it would kill him and you were happy to be rid of him."

  "But I would never…" Nárie started.

  "No more from you.  Get to work.  As soon as your chores are done you will be digging a grave to honor your father.  After that you will prepare him for the burial.  I expect him in his best clothes, and clean-shaven.  There is more after that so you better hurry along."  Bowing in bewilderment, Nárie hurried out of the house.

  "I have to get out of here," she said desperately to herself, "But how?"

            Through the day, Nárie worked hard to get her work done.  First feeding the chickens and tending to the garden, next cleaning the cottage from top to bottom.  Once the daily work was done, she found a small shovel and began with the digging.  She started the hole at the side of the house, where her parents had buried their only child.  Nárie could still remember the day when her mother had told her that she would have a baby sister.  How her mother knew it was a girl was a mystery, but all the same.  Knowing a baby sister would bring more work, Nárie had just nodded silently.  But, when the say came for the arrival, a twisted form came instead.  Indeed it was a girl, but her body was so disfigured, you could barely tell what it was, a stillborn.  For weeks her mother had wept, never leaving the bed, forcing Nárie to burry the child herself.

  As she was just finishing up, her mother stormed out of the house, "What do you think you are doing?" she demanded.

  "I am digging the grave like you requested," Nárie responded hesitantly.

  "Why are you doing it back here?" her mother asked again.

  "I thought you would want to put him with…" Nárie began.

  "Do you not wish to honor your father?" she cried, "Hiding him in back, like you're ashamed of him or something.  He must be put in the front, where all can see."

  "Why would you want all to see?"

  "Do not question me!" the woman screamed, her face growing a deep red, her voice beginning to quiver with rage.

  "There is no one to even see anything.  We live so far from everything.  No one comes to visit.  I have never, in my entire twenty years here, seen even a bird fly over," Nárie defended, her temper about to snap.

But that was it for her mother.  Reaching her hand out in a flash, she struck Nárie on the face.  It was unexpected and Nárie was thrown to the ground.  The freshly piled dirt covering her clothes as she landed with a soft thud.  Staring in shock at her mother, her mouth dropped open.  Standing quickly, she brushed herself off.

  "You will cover this hole and dig a new one in the front," her mother said, starting to clam from her rage.

  "NO," Nárie said sternly.  The line had been crossed, "I will do no more."  Without another word or even a glance at her home, she took off toward the great river.

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Well you're in luck, I am starting the third chapter right now.  I didn't think I would finish this one that quickly, not that it is long.  I just am really busy, I thought it would be at least a week.  Oh well, at this rate, I might even have the next chapter up a little later tonight.  Reviews are always encouraging, so would you please?


	3. Escaping

**                                                                     Chapter Three**

**                                                                             Escaping**

            Nárie ran all day, without a pause, until she reached a small grove of trees not far from the great river.  The sun was just beginning to depart.  Collapsing in a heap at the foot of a tree she breathed a sigh of relief.  She had finally done it; she had escaped. 

  'Now where shall I go?' she thought to herself, 'I most certainly can't go back.  She will have worked herself up into such a fuss that there will be no living with her after this.  I doubt that she would even willingly let me back into that cottage.  I suppose I could head north.  I can't go much further south.  East is too dangerous and there isn't much to the West.'  "North it is than," she said to no one in particular.  

  The sound of her stomach growling brought her back to reality, "I should probably eat something before I go anywhere," she said aloud once again, but then she realized she had not brought her usually pack with her, "I guess then I must go back, on last time.  I have to collect my things.  But after a short rest first."

            Lying down on a patch of moss, Nárie drifted off into a peaceful sleep.  She did not notice the darkness deepening, nor the silencing of the birds.  All her thoughts were pushed out of her mind, the first time in ages.

                                                            *                      *                      *

            A violent screech awoke Nárie in the night.  Jumping from the ground, she whipped around to stare into the empty dark.  Another screech came from over her head.  She saw a great eagle tumble to the ground a few feet from the edge of the forest.  She was about to rush to the fallen creature, but something in her mind was stopping her.  Her eyes moved to the sharp beak and claw-like talons.  Finally making up her mind, she took several small steps forward.  

  "Help me," a small voiced pleaded.

            Startled, Nárie stopped and looked around.  The voice had come from the creature. 

"Help me," the creature cried again.

  Stepping next to the eagle, she cautiously knelt down and stroked his elegant head,  "What pains you my friend?"

  "I was shot by with a bow by an orc," he said painfully.

  Glancing at the wing farthest from her she saw the feathered tip of an arrow nestled amongst his feathers.  Sighing she moved over to the side.  "This is going to hurt, but it will help," she said as she grasped the arrow tightly.  Glancing nervously at his talons, she gave a quick tug, freeing the arrow.  Checking it over, she was relieved to find that it was not poisoned.  "After a couple days rest you will be back to normal," she said as she stood up. 

  "Thank you," the eagle said.

  "It was nothing," Nárie replied.

  "I am glad I was able to find you," the creature began, "I fear I might not have made it to where I was heading."

  What do you mean, you found me?" Nárie questioned, "It looked more you were falling and I just happened to be here."

  "No, no, child," he explained, "I could sense you from a league off."

  "But how?"

  "Any good animal can sense such a caring creature as you, especially one of the first born."

  "Oh, I am not an elf.  Not even close, I could not be more human.

  The eagle now took a good look at the woman.  He seemed to shake his head before he replied, "Just the same, you are a kind creature, not only because of what you did more me.  But I am afraid I must go, I sense evil about.  Is there anywhere I can take you?  I will have to be somewhere close for I cannot fly far with this wound."

  "Well, yes there is," Nárie replied, "I need to go back ho… I mean I must go a cottage to retrieve my things.  It is not far off."

  "I would be honored to transport you," he replied as Nárie climbed onto his back.

            Lifting from the ground easily in a solid motion, the pair took off.  As they reached the last rise, just out of view of the cottage, Nárie thought she could smell smoke.  Rising over the hill, a gasp escaped her throat.  What she had once called home, was now captured in flames.  Landing safely from the fire, Nárie raced to the house.  

  "Do not go inside,"  the eagle said.

  "But I must see if my mother is in there," Nárie cried.  But as she took another step forward, the entire thing crumbled to the ground.

  "Look to your left," the eagle said sadly.

Glancing over, she let out another gasp.  A body lay there, in a very odd position.  She hurried over to it, praying the person was all right, but in her she knew that it was her mother before she even arrived at the old woman's side.  Tears streamed down her face as she looked over the woman's body.  Blood was everywhere.  Bruises covered her arms and face.  Nárie could tell that she had put up a struggle before the monsters had slit her throat.  Judging from the black surrounding the wounds, it could have only been orcs that had done this.  

Turning back to the simmering pile of rubble, another burst of tears fell from her eyes.  This was all she had ever called home.  She had grown up in that house, cleaning and caring for it as though she was the one who it belonged to.  She had fallen in love with the country surrounding and now she would have to leave this place.  No matter how hard the times had been, she had still called it home.  Now she was truly on her own.

Slowly standing, she moved her gaze to the sky.  The eagle had left, leaving her to morn in peace.  She heard a last cry of thanks from his as her disappeared from her view.  Walking to the small shed that stood in the back of the cottage, she thanked Eru that it had not caught flame.  Reaching inside, she pulled out a small sack that she had kept in there for several years.  It contained several weeks worth of food and several healing herbs.  Three years ago she had put the pack together, hoping that one-day she would be able to escape.  But she had never dreamt that it would be in this manner.

            Tossing the pack over her shoulder, Nárie headed northeast, towards the flowing river.  Once she reached it, she would go north until she felt safe.  Not even she knew where she would end up.

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            Thank you to SandraSmit19 for being my first reviewer.  I was very happen to see my first review and have it be a good one.

Thanks to Nirobie for the encouraging review.  Here is the next chapter, hope you like it.

            Please, everyone review, I need the encouragement.  Thanks again.


	4. Gondor

**SamdraSmith19 & Nirobie:** Thanks so much for reviewing again.  I'm glad you keep reviewing.  Hope you like this chapter.  You guys are both so encouraging.

**Elfing: **Thanks for your review, it was one of the best I've every gotten, which isn't a lot.  

**ROTK spoilers in this chapter and chapters to follow.**

**Chapter Four**

**                                                                             Gondor**

After seven days of traveling at a brisk pace, mountains came into view.  Reaching the first of the foothills by nightfall, Nárie stopped to make camp.  Gathering dry sticks and brush along with several large logs, she started a fire.  Once it was roaring, she began to prepare a meal for herself.  During the day she had been able to snare a small rabbit and carried it with her.  Her method of kill and cleaning, a small dagger that she had found in the forest one day.  Finding a flat rock and setting it by the fire, she laid the cut and cleaned meat upon it.  Although the animal had been small, it would be just enough to keep her going for the next day.

Searching through her pack, she pulled out a canteen.  It was nearly dry, having lasted her for the journey thus far.  Swallowing the last drops, she sighed and replaced the cover.  

  "I shall have to refill it tomorrow," she said to herself, "I'm sure there will be a mountain stream somewhere around here."

            Glancing over at the cook meal, she flipped it over to the other side.  It was beginning to smell delicious.  As the meat continued to cook, Nárie pulled her bedroll from her pack and spread it close to the fire.  The nights got cold out in the open, especially the closer she got to the mountains.  

            Finally the food was ready and Nárie pulled the rock away from the fire, careful to grab to cooler side.  It would also serve as a plate.  Using her dagger she slowly cut apart the food and ate it.  It wasn't the best rabbit she had ever eaten, but after a long days run it wasn't bad.

            As Nárie cleaned up her camp so she would be ready to go when the sunrise, she glanced at the sky to the east.  The past several nights she had noticed a shadow growing, slowly creeping westward, but during the day, try as she might, she could not see any storm clouds.  But this night it seemed closer and larger.  "This can't be a normal storm," she whispered to herself, "I best pick up speed tomorrow if I wish to reach Gondor in time.  I fear I may be too late," Something dreadful had been growing in her mind as she slept.  The nights were long and she often woke from her tossing and turning in a cold sweat, staring at the shadow.

            Drifting off into a restless sleep, Nárie dreamt of dark things such as orcs, goblins, and even creatures that she had never seen before.  They just seemed to appear inside her mind.  Nearing the end of her dream, fire covered her vision.  She began to choke and cough, desperately trying to get away from the fires, somehow, some way; though she didn't know where to go no matter which way she turned.  Just as she thought she could not bear another second, she jumped to her feat.  The fire was gone, her breathing came normal, though fast, and the burning sensation on her skin was gone.  A fine sheen of sheet covered her body though she shivered in the cool night air.

            Sighing, Nárie gathered her things, realizing she would not sleep again tonight.  Throwing her sack over her should, she set off at a jog.  As she topped the last hill before the castle came into view, she gasped in shock.  The city was in flames.  Dark figures swarmed to walls, hurling more balls of rock, flame and anything they could find.  Thousands more stood fighting others on the ground.  As she continued to watch, she heard a terrible that made her want to shrink the ground and sob.  Resisting the urge, she saw a dark shadow rise up from the depths of the battlefield and flew east, back to Mordor.

            Silently Nárie cursed herself for not having another weapon, not that she could much help it.  Taking a deep breath to draw her courage, she ran toward the battling enemies.  She respected Gondor for its reputation, but that was not the real reason she wished to join the fight.  These creatures had come through her homeland and destroyed everything.  She wanted revenge.

            Drawing her single dagger for now, she plunged forward.  She passed over fallen bodies before she reached the hoards of creatures.  Pausing, she drew a sword from the body of a fallen orc, and continued forward.  Now she had a better chance of staying alive.

            Nearing the first people still fighting, she killed a wild-man who was about to behead a young looking man.  Without pausing she moved toward her next opponent.  She had never had any real train as a warrior, but several years before, her father had taught her the basics.  He said that she would need them incase someone attacked her.  She would be able to defend herself against one or two attackers.  It was the only decent thing he had ever done for her.  Teaching her to defend herself or another helpless being.

            Nárie continued to draw closer toward the city walls, killing those in her path.  Amazingly, she only collected a few scraps and scratches.  Her hair was beginning to fall from its confinements and flew into her eyes and sticking to her sweaty face.  As she brushed it aside, her mouth dropped in awe.  A blond haired elf fought before her eyes.  An elf!  Never before had she seen one.  Her mother had told her nasty stories about elves killing men of no apparent reason.  The woman had hated elves, but never explained why.  Nárie, however had fallen in love with the immortal beings, and her deepest desire in life had been to one-day meet one.  Now her dreams were coming true.  He had graceful movements, dancing just out of the reach of another's sword.  Ducking quickly, her thrust upward with his sword, killing another dark creature.  He turned and seemed to spot her, realizing she had been watching him.  Their eyes locked for a moment.  He had the bluest eyes she had ever seen, and the fairest face.

            A cry broke their trance.  It came from a rugged looking man, wielding a brilliant white sword.  Whipping around, Nárie threw her newfound sword up and blocked the swing of a huge black mass.  It had razor sharp teeth and foamed at the mouth.  She swung her sword around and sent his flying.   But before she could take another swing at him, she felt a sharp pain in her side.  Glancing downward, a dagger was buried in between her ribs.  Gasping for air, she saw a movement out of the corner of her eye.  It was the elf.  He had raised his bow and the black mass fell to the ground in front of Nárie, an arrow straight through his throat.

            That was the last thing she saw before all went black.

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Well, here you guys go, hope you like it.  Tell me what you think.  I know it's not quite as eventful as the others, but it's gone get pretty exciting, pretty quickly.

I have beaten the system!  Hurray for me.  I have finally figured out how to format my chapters the way I want them, that is why I redid all the other chapters.  Sorry for any confusion it may have caused.


	5. The King and His Companions

**Nirobie: **Thanks for being a faithful fan.

**Elfling: **Thanks for reading this.  I hope you like the new chapter.  You can also read my other ones.  The first one isn't the best, maybe I'll work on it later.  It was my first one and I was still getting the gist of fanfictions.

**                                                                     Chapter Five**

**                                                       The King and His Companions**

The first thing Nárie heard as she awoke was the swirl of water.  'That's odd,' she thought to herself.  'Mother never does any work.  She just makes me do it.'  Then, as if a wave had hit her, the memories came flooding back.  Her father's death, finding her mother's body, joining the fight, and the elf.  Oh the elf, what a wondrous occasion for her, even though she nearly been killed.  The thought of the creature that had wounded her made her shiver.

  "Alas, you have finally woken," came a musical voice at her side.  Opening her eyes, Nárie looked into those blue eyes once again.  Her breath was taken away.  Shutting them quickly, she prayed that this was not a dream.  

  "What's the matter?" came the voice again, only this time with concern, "Shall I fetch Aragorn?"

            Opening her eyes once more she struggled to sit up.  She bit her lip and a sharp pain shot through her side.  Gasping once she was finally up again, she looked around.  There were many cots filled with wounded people, lying around her and she seemed to be inside a tent.   An elderly woman rung out a cloth and laid it on a nearby men's forehead.  She shook her head lightly to try and clear her thoughts.  In doing so she latched onto the gaze of the elf once more.  Something in his eyes would not let her look away.  She didn't know if this was some sort of elvish magic, or just the fact that she was so fascinated by him.  

            Blinking and finally tearing herself from his gaze she brought her knees around and set her feet on the soft ground.  Bracing herself, she slowly rose until she was standing.

  "You really should be resting.  Aragorn said not to let you rise for another day at least," the elf said hesitantly.

  "Well I'm fine now," Nárie said stubbornly as she took a step.  Gasping, she nearly collapsed onto the ground, but the elf caught her by the waist and held her up.

  "I really think you should stay put," the elf insisted.

  "I will feel better when I can get some fresh air," she replied coolly, "I need to get out of this stuffy tent, I cannot breath inside it."

  With a chuckle, the elf replied, "Nor can I.  But I will accompany you, for I do not wish you to fall," He added, not letting her go.  

With his aid, Nárie was able to hobble out of the tent.  The side where she had been hit with the dagger hurt, but she pushed the pain aside.  As they reached the fresh air, she inhaled deeply and slowly let it out.  Taking another deep breath, she glanced at her surroundings.  Many tents dotted the hillside surrounding the great city of Gondor.  Now that she saw it up close, it was bigger than she had imagined.  Layers of walls surrounded the center, which rose high above the ground.  She could glimpse the roofs of houses in between the walls.  The front gates, which once stood proud and tall, were now a crumbled mess.

  "Legolas, I thought I told you to keep her in bed," came a voice to their right.  The rugged man Nárie had seen the night before who had also warned her about the creature, came striding toward them from another ten.

  'So that's his name,' Nárie thought to herself, 'Legolas, it sounds elegant, seems just right for an elf, but who am I to say?'

  "She insisted on getting some fresh air," Legolas replied simply, but under his breath he muttered, "I wouldn't blame her, it's so close in there."

  "I heard that, elf," the man replied, "You and I both know that it can't be helped."

Puzzled, Nárie struggled to try and free herself for the elf's grip.  She was about to ask him what had happened the previous night when two more elves emerged from the same tent the rugged man had.  Her mouth dropped open just slightly before she caught herself.  They were mirror images of each other.  They looked nothing like the elf that still held her arm firmly.  Instead they had long dark hair and dark eyes.  But they still held the same elegance and nature as the blond.

  "You need to be resting," the rugged man said, about to take her arm and lead her back to the tent when she stepped away.

  "I am just fine thank you," she said, "I can take care of myself."

  "I'm sure you can, but you need to rest so you can heal," the man said, once again trying to lead her into the tent, "I did what I could, but you need rest."

  By now they two identical elves had reached them, and were looking at her curiously.  Suddenly one of them spoke up,  "What might you're name be, fair lady?"  

  "Nárie," she replied.

  "How interesting for a mortal," the other elf spoke up, glancing at the men.

            Nárie tried to read the look on his face, but she just became more confused.  There were so many men around, that she had trouble-keeping track.

  "Indeed," commented the twin who had asked her name.  To Nárie he said, "Take heed to my lord Aragorn, he is one of the wisest healers around.  If he says you need rest, then rest you should."

  "I said I am fine," Nárie replied stubbornly, "but I am rather hungry.  Were could I find something to eat?"  Pausing to realize that she had no way of repaying them she added, "Do you know where my pack went?  It contained my things."

  "No, I'm afraid it was lost in the battle.  Perhaps we could look for it later, when you are feeling better.  As for the food, I can take you to find some,"  Legolas replied as he started to guide her to another tent that smelt of cooked fish.

            She began to open her mouth to say that she was just fine and she could go herself, but she quickly closed it.  She realized that she wouldn't mind some company and she didn't know exactly where to go.  So with the elf still clutching her side so that she would not fall, the entered the food tent, where Nárie's hunger was diminished.

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I'm sorry it took so long to post this.  I had it almost finished, but wasn't inspired to finish it.  So maybe a little extra encouragement from reviewers after this will help.  Thanks for reading and being patient with me.


	6. Healing

Sorry that I took so long to get this chapter going.  The last two months were absolutely crazy at my house.  But I hope to be able to right more now that the holidays are over.  Please tell me what you think.

**Chapter Six**

**           Healing**

       Nárie awoke early the next morning.  The sun was just rising and birds beginning to sing.  Sitting up on her cot, she glanced around.  All were asleep and there was no one watching the entrance for the moment.  She quietly slipped out of her bed and quickly made it.  Grabbing a hair tie, she pulled her hair back.  She softly moved out of the tent and outside.  Glancing around her, she saw tents in every direction.  To her left, the great city of Gondor, rising higher and higher.  To her right were three rows of tents and then the open field where to battle had taken place.  Starting slowly to test her strength, she set out at a jog.  Reaching the end of the tents, she glanced around and moved around and moved toward the spot where she guessed she had joined the battle.

       Checking the ground for footing and any sign of her belongings, she picked up her pace.  Her eyes darted from left to right.  She had gone quite a way until her eyes finally fell upon a small leather pouch.  It's contents were gone and a hole torn in it.  It lie nest to the body of a dead orc.  Turning the creature over with her foot, she saw what was left of her pack.  There were a few broken containers lying crushed into the earth.  Gently picking it up, she opened it to see not much was left.  A few broken pieces of bark sat at the bottom, next to a small box.  Reaching inside, she slowly withdrew the box.  Letting the bag fall to the ground, she hesitantly lifted the cover of the box.  Inside, amongst a small piece of cloth, lay a necklace.  It was completely unharmed and untouched.  Taking it out, she let the jewel attached hang.  The sun caught it and reflected small beams of light.  The jewel was of a silver feather in front of a green leaf.  On the back a name was carved in elvish: _Nárie_.  

Her eyes misted over and tears slowly welled up.  Just then she heard a soft intake of breath and turned around.  Legolas stood behind her, smiling almost mischievously.  One glance at her face at the tears in her eyes made his smile quickly vanish.  A look of concern replaced the one of mischief.

  "What's wrong?" he asked taking a step closer.

       Wiping her eyes, she quickly dropped the necklace back into the box and closed it.

  "Nothing," she replied as she wiped her eyes again, "The sun caught my eye."

  Frowning Legolas said, "I see you've found your pack."

  "I did," was her only reply.

  "You really shouldn't be out here.  You're still mending."

  "I'm fine!" she snapped a little sharper than she had intended.

  "Why don't I accompany you back to the city.  They have begun to serve breakfast," Legolas suggested.

  "Fine," she replied as she took off at a quick jog.

       Legolas caught up with her in half a moment.  Wrinkling her brow, she speed up.  She did not like to be challenged.  Legolas just shook his head and matched her pace.  By the time they reached the first tents, they were both a blur.  Putting his hands up in defeat, he dropped down to a walk.

  'You're a bit stubborn.  Anyone ever tell you that?"  When Nárie didn't respond, he continued, "You're pretty fast, for a human.  Especially after the other night."

  "I enjoy the outdoors.  I also like to run, but never had the chance to go anywhere until now," she replied shortly.  

  "What do you mean by that?" Legolas questioned.

  "I mean I was never allowed to go far from home until about a week ago."

  "May I ask why that is?"

  "You may ask, but I shall not answer."

       Sensing that it may be a touchy subject, Legolas dropped it and they entered the food tent.  Many varieties of foods were beginning served.  Selecting a few pieces of fruit along with a breakfast roll, she arranged them on a small napkin.  Grabbing a cup, she filled it with cider and went outside to eat.  She found a spot in the grass to sit and began to eat.  Glancing up, she saw Legolas following Aragorn, the twins, and several other she did not recognize.  They were entering the city.

       After finishing her breakfast, she disposed of her napkin and returned her cup.  Taking in her surroundings, she took a deep breath.  Now that she was here, she did not know what to do or where to go next.  All her life she had wanted to see the white city, but seeing it in such ruin wasn't exactly what she had hoped for.  

Wandering over to the broken gates, she gazed at them.  It must have taken great strength to force the open.  Unfortunately, she had not seen the force that opened them.  They had already been broken when she had arrived.

Moving further into the city, her eyes moved over the rubble.  Such destruction and chaos.  Shaking her head, she left the walls and walked into the nearest tent.  Moans and cries of pain surrounded her.  Many women were rushing about doing what they could.  Nárie stopped on of the women who seemed to be in charge.

  "What can I do to help?" she asked.

  "Do you know anything about healing?" the woman asked.  Her graying hair was wound tightly in a bun.  Her clothes were covered in dirt and dried blood.  With Nárie's nod she quickly turned and motioned, "Follow me."

They walked to a cot where a young man lay.  His face was deathly white and a bandage was wrapped around his chest.  His left arm was discolored and his sleeve had been cut away.

  "His arm was severely wounded in the battle.  We cleaned it the best we could, but it's still been infected.  We're going to have to cut the infected part off.  There is no other choice.  Can you look after him while I operate?"

  "Wait," Nárie said, "You do not have o take his arm.  Not yet at least.  Do you have any Broad-leaf?"

  "Yes, we have a little, but we only use it for cooking.  How could that help?"

  "It helps to rid infection.  Now hurry, it's no guarantee that it will save his arm.  It may already be too late."

  The woman said a few words to a young girl and then turned back to Nárie, "Is there anything else that you know of that might help?" she asked.

  Nárie shook her head, "Just keep the fluids going."

  "Of course," the woman replied.

       Several minutes later, the young girl who had left earlier, returned.  She was a bit short of breath, her hands held a jar in which contained many green leaves.

  "I had to go all the way to the third level, but I found some," she said, handing the jar to Nárie.

  "Thank you," Nárie said as she turned toward the young man.

  "What else can I do to help?" the girl asked as she glanced at the man on the cot.  He was also looking at her in a peculiar way.  

  Nárie raised an eyebrow and said, "Just talk to him.  When I apply the moist leaves, it's going to sting, a lot."

       The girl nodded and knelt by the bed and whispered softly to him.  The older woman had poured warm water into a small bowl.  Nárie quickly washed her hands in the basin and picked up one of the leaves.  She dipped it into the bowl of water and laid it gently on the wound on the man's arm.  He gritted his teeth and let out a low growl of pain.  His good hand clutched the yellowed sheet.  The girl took his hand in hers.  He turned his head toward her.  A pained look over took him as Nárie laid another leaf on his wound.  

       After laying three more leaves on the wound, Nárie was finished.  The man had turned even whiter from the pain, but was still conscious.  His forehead had begun to sweat from the leaves working their healing powers on him.

  "Apply new leaves every two hours for a full day.  If that doesn't work, I don't believe anything will.  Once the day is up, do not wash the wound for another day.  The medicine in the leaves will still be present.    After about a week, his arm should be almost healed and he can start using it again.  But be careful!"  Nárie said as she set the jar down.  The young girl was still holding the man's hand and didn't appear to be going anywhere, "What's next?"  Nárie asked cheerfully. 

       The rest of the day went by very quickly.  Once she finally left the tent, it was dark.  Stretching, she heard a voice behind her.

  "What were you up to in there?" came a deep musical voice.

  Turning, Nárie saw Legolas standing behind her, grinning.  "I was helping out a little," she replied as she glared at him, "I haven't seen you all day, what were you up to?"

  "Oh, I was just lying around eating all day," he answered.

  "I'll bet," she murmured.

  "I heard that," he answered, "You forget that I am an elf."

  "Not at all," she smirked.  Just then, the old woman came out of the tent and wiped her brow.

  "Nárie, there you are.  I just wanted to thank you for all your help today.  I don't know what we would have done without you," she said.

  "So you really were doing something of value," Legolas commented.

  Nárie was thinking of a comeback, but the old woman spoke up before she had the chance.  "She saved many lives today, master elf.  She also taught me quite a lot about healing."

  "Did she, now?" Legolas said as he raised an eyebrow.

  "I told you," Nárie retorted as she stormed off.

  "Wait," Legolas called after her, "I'm sorry.  I didn't mean it."  Nárie continued on her way to the food tent.  She was just about to enter when Legolas caught her arm.  "Will you wait just a second?"

  Nárie turned to face him, her watery eyes glaring at him, "What do you want?" she snapped.

  "Legolas was taken aback, "I have hurt you.  Please tell me what I can do to make it up."

  "There is nothing you can do," she sobbed, "You can take back all those years that I suffered.  You can't bring back the dead.  There's nothing you can do.  Nothing…" her voice trailed off.

       Legolas dropped his hand.  He was deeply concerned.  There must be something he was missing.  Something that he had missed or she had not told him.  Stepping closer, he searched for something to say to console her.

  "Just leave me alone," Nárie said as tears fell down her face, "I just need to be alone."  

She turned from him and took off in the maze of tents.  Reaching the end, she fell to her knees and cried.  She cried for a long time, letting out all the pain that had been trapped inside.   Some time later, when all the tears were gone, she heard voices behind her.  They came from one of the end tents.  A candle was lit inside and she could see the figures of several men standing inside, talking amongst themselves.   They voices were becoming slightly raised so Nárie crept closer to hear what they were saying.  She soon recognized the voice of Legolas and Aragorn.  She figured the twin elves were there and they others who had gone into the city earlier that day.  

  "We do not stand a chance," came one voice, "Sauron has too many behind the gates of Mordor.  We would be slaughtered."

  "Nay," came the voice of one of the twin elves, "We have more than you think, but we must give Frodo a chance.  He'll never make it with those creatures still inside.  We must draw them out."

       Nárie frowned.  She didn't know what they were talking about.  Why would anyone want to go to Mordor and take on thousands of orcs, goblins, and trolls?  And who was Frodo?  Why did giving him a chance mean so much?

  "Aragorn is right," came Legolas' voice, "We have no other choice.  If Frodo is discovered, Sauron will get the ring and all will be lost."

       Nárie gasped.  So that's what they were talking about.  The ring of power had been found and they were making an attempt to destroy it. 

  "We must be ready to leave in one day," Aragorn said, "We can take all day tomorrow to ready the weapons.  Gather all those who can fight.  Move the rest into the city were they can be better protected.  We leave at dawn."

       The men nodded and began to leave the tent.  Nárie hurried away so not to be caught.  She moved to the tent where she new weapons were kept.  Glancing inside, she saw that no one was inside, so she slipped in.  Keeping her ears alert for anyone approaching, she gathered several small daggers.  Sorting through the many swords lying on the table, she selected on that was a bit lighter than the rest.  Voices were approaching, so she moved out of the tent to hid the weapons she had collected.  She was going with them to help.  She was going to fight.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Broad-leaf is said to help with infection.  I don't really know how strong it is or if that's how it will help, but it sounds good, doesn't it?  It was also the only plant that I could find that helped.


End file.
